


a lesson in elf biology

by rottenboy (TechnicalTragedy)



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Altered Mental States, Anal Fingering, Asphyxiation, Depending on who you ask, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, weird elf shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicalTragedy/pseuds/rottenboy
Summary: Sportacus is irresponsible and forgets when his heat is due. Whoops.





	

**Author's Note:**

> well. this was supposed to be shorter than it is. but here have some mostly-pwp while i'm supposed to be working on other shit because yeah i read that heat fic and yeah i caved. sue me.

As he slowly comes to consciousness, Sportacus is swamped with warmth. His pillow is clutched tightly between his arms and he's rubbing his cheek over it again and again and again and again and ag- he can't really stop himself. The pillow, still cool, feels more than good on his overheated skin.

Sportacus tries to get his bearings, his head muddled and confused. The aching warmth is in his groin, too, causing him to rut up against the bed. Friction feels fantastic, and he sinks his teeth into his pillow to stifle his moan. He has an inkling of what's happening. His mind is too preoccupied with want to concern himself with it right now.

One hand slides down his body to wrap around his hard cock. He lets out a long purr as he jerks himself off, the heady scent of his own musk causing his head to spin.

It doesn't take long to climax, not when he's already so keyed up, and with that release of tension comes clarity.

"Oh no," he says. "Airship, what's the date?"

The airship rattles off the date, and Sportacus groans in frustration. Time had slipped away from him. He hadn't even realized his heat was coming on and he didn't prepare for it. It's the first one he's had without suppressants, because they're hard to get in LazyTown, so his usual presence of mind during the heat will be absent. It's not a good situation, especially when he doesn't have a partner to help him through it.

Angry at his own irresponsibility, Sportacus has to masturbate again in order to beat off (pun not intended) the encroaching wave of senseless desire.

He needs to find someone to help him through this or it'll be hell on his body. But who? He can't ask Mayor Meanswell, because no, and Miss Busybody is off limits for the same reason. Sometimes it is very awkward being one of the only few adults in town. But Sportacus could ask- No, that would never happen. Robbie would just laugh at him.

Or would he?

Thoughtful, Sportacus sticks lubed-up fingers in himself, eyes rolling back in his head as the heat creeps over him. He imagines that these are Robbie's fingers in him, filling him up and opening him wide. A purr rumbles through his chest at the thought, surprising him even through the fog sweeping over his mind.

Robbie has those long fingers, so clever and quick, and Sportacus shoves himself down on his own, wanting to feel those fingers in him with a sudden ferocity. Or his legs, so perfect for wrapping around Sportacus as he thrusted into him. He'd be loud, Sportacus thinks, because he's loud in all other things, that mouth of his getting him into trouble. Oh, Robbie's mouth. His lips wrapped around Sportacus, swallowing him down to the hilt, his head in Sportacus' hands as he fucked Robbie's face.

Sportacus comes to the image of Robbie with Sportacus' cock in his mouth.

He gets up and gets dressed. It isn't his usual outfit, because that's too constricting, too rough on his skin. Sportacus has his blue pajama bottoms on, a worn and comfy sweater, and he hopes he looks just good enough - just soft enough - that Robbie will want him.

Sportacus makes his way out of the airship, hoping he'll be able to get to Robbie's without incident. He moves quickly, trying to avoid being seen by any of the children because they'd certainly have questions he wouldn't be able to answer. Thankfully, Sportacus gets to the entrance to Robbie's lair and the hatch is unlocked. He still knocks, because he's polite, but he doesn't wait for an answer before he enters.

"Who- Sportaflop, what are you doing here?" Robbie says. He has his pajamas on too, and is reclining in his orange chair. "Do you think you're just allowed to break in to people's homes? I'm not even doing anything villainous right now."

Sportacus feels a stirring of warmth as he sees Robbie, the more primitive parts of himself preening at seeing his chosen partner comfortable and cozy as if he'd had something to do with it. He tries his best to ignore that.

"I need your help," Sportacus says.

Robbie's eyes go wide, and then he's grinning smugly, pushing himself up out of his chair and standing tall over Sportacus. "Oh? The mighty Sportacus needs help from Robbie Rotten, of all people? Fascinating, don't you think?" he says.

Sportacus refrains from rolling his eyes, but it's a near thing. "Can you help me or not?"

"You haven't told me what you need help with, Sportaklunk. How am I suppose to know if I can help?" Robbie says. He seems to take in Sportacus, finally, lingering on his outfit. "You aren't dressed as usual. Did you just wake up?"

"Yes, kind of, but look, I need help with," Sportacus pauses, a little embarrassed because he knows humans don't go through this and he's going to seem very vulnerable to Robbie when he admits what he needs help with. "I'm going through my heat - yes, before you ask, it's what it sounds like - and I need someone to, ah, help me with it."

Robbie blinks at him, not registering what Sportacus is saying for a moment. When he does, he adopts a more suspicious air, squinting at Sportacus. "Elves go through heat," he says.

Sportacus sighs, already feeling arousal spreading through his body. "Yes, we do. It hasn't been an issue before because I've had suppressants and could handle it but I ran out and now I need someone to assist."

"Why me?" Robbie says.

"Wh-" Sportacus stills, even the heat freezing like its confused. "Why you?"

"Yes. Why would you pick me to help?" Robbie says. "We aren't supposed to like each other, and we certainly aren't supposed to do what you're proposing with each other."

Sportacus takes a half step forward. "I do like you. You might not think so, but you're my friend. I know you're the villain, but you aren't a bad guy. I trust you."

Robbie looks genuinely startled at the confession, his eyes wide and body stiff. "You trust me," he says.

The heat moves on from its confusion, bleeding through Sportacus and making it harder to think. "Yes," he says. "I trust you very much, Robbie. I would appreciate it if you could give me an answer quickly, because I do not think we have much time left before I cannot negotiate further."

"Oh," Robbie says. "I, um, I guess I can help you, Sportakook. What do I need to do?"

Sportacus bites his lip, the heat charring him and starting to hurt. "Anything," he says. "Touch me, please."

Robbie puts a hand out awkwardly, and Sportacus grabs it, yanking Robbie to him and pressing his face into his neck. He kisses and bites at the pale skin there, listening to Robbie's breathing hitch. Hesitant, Robbie puts a hand on the back of Sportacus' head, stroking through his curly hair. Sportacus purrs and, without warning, drops to his knees.

Sportacus feels consumed, feels like lava is flowing through his veins and the only remedy is Robbie's hands in his hair. He'd imagined Robbie doing this, but now that Sportacus is here there's nothing he wants more than to choke on Robbie's dick.

"Can I suck you off?" Sportacus says, nuzzling at the growing hardness under Robbie's robe.

Robbie gulps loud enough that Sportacus can hear it. "Since you asked so nicely," he says, trying to maintain the illusion of control.

Sportacus doesn't need any more permission than that. He pulls Robbie's robe open and tugs his underwear down around his ankles. He salivates at the sight of Robbie's cock, skinnier and shorter than his own, but Sportacus needs it down his throat. He presses open-mouthed kisses to the base of it and on Robbie's thighs, then licks at the head, feelings it twitch under his tongue. Not wanting to waste another second, Sportacus swallows Robbie, getting about halfway down his cock when Robbie's fingers tighten in his hair, halting any further progression. Sportacus hums questioningly, but then Robbie rocks his hips forward and Sportacus realizes. He wraps his hands around the backs of Robbie's thighs and lets him do what he wants.

Robbie is careful, at first, not pushing too far, not going very fast. Sportacus is just starting to get bored with the pace when Robbie changes it. He shoves his cock down Sportacus' throat until Sportacus' nose is pressed to his abdomen, then holds him there. Sportacus can't really breathe, but he purrs, working his tongue as best he can against Robbie. Finally Robbie lets up, but he keeps thrusting into Sportacus' mouth harshly. It's exactly what Sportacus needs, and he can't possibly stop the purring.

"You're so good at this," Robbie pants. "Do elves not have a gag reflex, or something? You're so good, you're so good, you're so good." Robbie keeps chanting about how good Sportacus is and it goes right to his dick, dripping precum and definitely making a mess of his pajama pants.

Sportacus reaches down to touch himself, groaning as the need to come builds. He swallows around Robbie, trying to make sure he gets his pleasure.

"Are you getting off on this? You like having somebody's dick in your mouth?" Robbie says. He buries himself down Sportacus' throat again, grinding his hips against Sportacus' face. His fingers are holding on tight, filth spilling from his lips.

The lack of oxygen takes Sportacus higher, pulling his dick from his pajama pants and his hand working over it, the need shooting through his system and left wanting, desperate.

Robbie lets out a shaky breath as he comes, stilling his hips.

Sportacus swallows it all, and when Robbie pulls his cock from between Sportacus' lips, petting his hair fondly and whispering about how beautiful Sportacus looks like this, he falls over that edge with a ragged cry.

When his mind clears, Sportacus is no longer kneeling on the floor of Robbie's lair. He's in a soft, warm bed, Robbie stroking his back and sides.

"When did we get here?" Sportacus tries, but can't quite get the words out. Robbie shushes him and turns away, pressing a glass into his hands a moment later.

Sportacus drinks. The water feels brilliant on his throat, and he drains the glass before he attempts to speak again.

"Where are we?" he says.

"My bedroom," Robbie answers. "I don't use it much."

Sportacus nods, then presses closer to Robbie. The heat is a background thrum, his cock already hard again, but he just lays his head on Robbie's chest and listens to his heart beat, purring all the while.

Eventually, Robbie reaches down and jerks Sportacus off, slow and leisurely. He brings him to the edge, then backs off. Sportacus doesn't mind too much, but his heat flares harder each time it happens. Robbie is gentle, shushing Sportacus when he growls at Robbie for not letting him come. As it drags on, Sportacus starts to get more desperate, biting at Robbie's chest without speaking. It feels like a breach of some agreement to speak during this.

"Look at you," Robbie whispers. "Acting like an animal when you don't get what you want." He squeezes at the base of Sportacus' cock, cutting off another attempt at orgasm and drawing a quiet whimper from Sportacus. "Poor little Sporty can't get off," Robbie mocks.

Sportacus sinks his teeth into Robbie's shoulder, drawing a sharp hiss from him. To retaliate, he pulls Sportacus' dick just a little too hard, sending another growl bubbling out of his mouth. He presses his fingers to Robbie's hips as a warning.

Robbie of course, does not heed this warning. He takes his hands away entirely, quipping, "I guess you don't want me to help, after all."

With another growl, Sportacus flips Robbie onto his other side. Robbie makes a surprised noise that fades into a gasp as Sportacus presses his cock between Robbie's thighs.

"Make that tight for me," he says in Robbie's ear, voice colored by the growl still burbling in his throat. Wordlessly, Robbie obeys, and a Sportacus takes a moment to revel in their flipped positions before he begins to move.

It's dry, between Robbie's thighs, and the drag against Sportacus' skin borders on painful. He pulls back and spits into his hand, slicking his cock with it and the precum that had gathered from Robbie's teasing. Sportacus shoves back in, the way somewhat eased, and fucks into the tight space Robbie gives him. His fingers curl hard into Robbie's hips, wanting to leave marks and bruises to remind Robbie of who he belongs to-

That thought slices the heat away for a moment, leaving Sportacus stunned while his hips still move in shallow thrusts. Robbie isn't his. He has no claim to Robbie. But just the thought of having him, of Robbie actually being his, that makes Sportacus' heat-addled brain demand to own and possess, seeping into his system.

He thrusts harder into Robbie's thighs, the head of his cock butting up against Robbie's balls, slipping past to just barely rub against Robbie's hardening member. Sportacus bites, wherever he can reach. His fingers leave marks on the hips and his teeth leave them on shoulders, the neck.

Robbie is moaning, not quite saying words but wanting to. He bites them back, swallows them down, and it makes Sportacus thrill.

"Robbie," he says. "Robbie, Robbie, my Robbie."

"Yes," Robbie breathes.

Sportacus feels inverted, like all his insides are outside and he's made of fire, not water. "Mine."

Robbie's throat bobs under Sportacus's mouth. "Yours," he says. "Yours."

That does it for Sportacus, whose thrusting gets erratic as he continues to fuck between Robbie's thighs. "Mine, mine, mine, my Robbie, my Robbie," he says.

"Yours," Robbie answers every time, "your Robbie."

Sportacus nuzzles Robbie's neck. "Yours," he says.

Robbie reaches a hand back and splays it over Sportacus' side. "My Sportacus," he agrees, and Sportacus is coming, the world is a vacuum, he thinks he might be speaking in Elvish.

He's panting into Robbie's back when he comes back to himself, tracing nonsensical shapes onto Robbie's skin with his fingers.

"Make me come," Robbie says.

And who is Sportacus to deny him?

Robbie sighs as he climaxes, relaxing back into Sportacus, who kisses his shoulder and throat again and again.

"How long does your heat last?" Robbie asks.

Sportacus huffs out a laugh. "Three or four days, but it won't always be this intense."

Robbie groans. "If this is your plan to take out the villain of LazyTown, by sexing him to death, I think it's going to work."

Sportacus pulls Robbie as close as physically possible, purr radiating throughout his being. "What's a hero without a villain?" he says.

"Pretty boring, especially if the hero is you," Robbie says teasingly.

"You're right about that," Sportacus says. Gently, he rolls Robbie back over to face him. "May I kiss you?"

Robbie doesn't answer, not with words, but he kisses Sportacus and fans the flames in his chest.

Sportacus smiles against Robbie's lips. "Ready for round, what is it, three?"

"I don't know how many more orgasms I can take," Robbie complains.

"Don't worry," Sportacus says. "I'll go easy on you."

And, for that time, his word is good.


End file.
